Lovely, Dark and Deep
by Annamonk
Summary: Despite the title this story is brought to you by the overzealous auto correct and the odd text conversations that erupt between Trinkisme and myself. Wood goo, woo hoo! It's another post war jaunt. It's not my sand box.
1. Chapter 1

Draco was startled when Hermione pushed into his study and started to pace. She was usually the placid one. Well, not placid, more stoic and inscrutable. She was a creature of intellect. The war had burned out her passion. He was the one that needed to exorcise his energetic demons with a fair amount of physical activity. He was the pacer.

"You need to go to the willow grove and get me wood goo from one of the trees." She stopped pacing and he could see the small flickers of magic building in the wild corona of her hair. It was decidedly disturbing to see her so disheveled.

"I really don't have time." He shifted nervously as the sparks broke free and started to crackle around her. The scent of ozone that was so common around wild magic filled the room quickly. "I have to go to work. There's a board meeting."

"Be late." Hermione slapped her hands down on the polished mahogany of his desk top. "You're the one that calls the meetings after all."

"Hermione, I'm trying to rebuild the company. I can't just do as I please." Draco stood up and met her gaze. "Send one of the elves for your wood goo."

"I can't send one of the elves. I need you to harvest and mix it." She pushed off his desk and resumed pacing. "I understand you have a commitment to the company, but you need to do this for me. My research won't wait."

"Your research?" He rolled his eyes. Being married to the brainest brain ever produced was annoying. She had no sense of appropriate priority.

He glanced at the clock.

"Please." She bit her lips and more sparks burst from her hair. "I need this."

"We are supposed to make requests ahead of time. That was one of your conditions for our marriage." He managed not to grimace when he said the word. "I have to go. I'll get your goo later."

"Do you think it's easy for me to ask you for something, for anything?" She stomped her foot on the thick carpet. "It needs to be harvested on the morning before the full moon. Tonight is the full moon."

"Then you should have asked me days ago. You know my schedule is hectic." Draco gathered his papers and apparated.

Her final words barely registered as they were lost in the whirl of travel. He was well used to her snide insults by now.

His wife was a harridan of mythic proportions, but she'd seemed truly upset this morning. He blinked and considered why her thinking she had a stomach flu might have any affect on the gathering of potions ingredients. He'd ask her in a few days when she'd had time to cool down.

"Goddess, she's difficult." He spread his papers out on this larger desk and turned his mind back toward the meeting ahead. He didn't have time to placate his Ministry assigned wife.

He tried to focus on the spreadsheets and proposals, but his mind kept slipping back to her. Hermione. The woman had a giant stick rammed up her arse. Her memory of every insult he'd lobbed at her in their youth was crystal clear. He would never get out from u set her condemnation.

She never bent and never asked for a single bloody thing.

Their lives were as separate as the Ministry vows allowed. She had her life and he had his. So, why had she come to him?

Summoning Longbottom from the herbology department was a habit now. The man had turned into a competent department head and an occasional Gryffindor translator over the last seven years. He needed to focus on his work, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important.

"You rang?" Neville stuck his head in the door.

"What is wood goo?" Draco gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk.

"It's one of the oldest potions ingredients." Neville shrugged. "It's four parts sap, two parts chopped leaves, and one part bark ground to a dust. It can be made from all kinds of trees, but it can't be made ahead. So, there's no market value in it."

"Why not?" Draco frowned. He knew he wasn't asking the right questions.

"It has a a lot of uses, but when it's harvested and the method of the harvest affect its usefulness." Neville shrugged. "Basic potion bases have replaced it in most cases. It is still the best base for antenatal potions. It's why we can't make a mass market one."

"What?" Draco felt the world spin around him. Antenatal.

"Think of the money we could make if we found a way around using wood goo. Powerful witches go through hell during pregnancy." Neville shrugged. "They have problems controlling their magic. It isn't a good time for any witch. The magical surges alone."

Draco saw Hermione's hair sparking in his mind's eye.

"They have a hard time focusing their thoughts."

Hermione hadn't been her usual strident self.

"And the emotional upheaval is supposed to be horrible."

Draco blinked and tried to imagine his formal and distant wife having an emotional fit. It might be amusing.

"Pansy lit things on fire all around the keep when she was first carrying Alicia." Neville smiled. "She didn't want to tell me until she was further along, but the flaming curtains gave her away."

"I didn't realize pregnancy was so dangerous." Draco tried to smile.

"Are you two finally going to give in to The Ministry's demands? Hermione's the strongest witch I know." Neville shook his head. "You'd better start casting impervious charms before it's too late. They work better if the father does them."

Draco focused on the one word. Father. He was going to be a father. He was finally going to have someone to love.

"What time is it?" Draco interrupted Neville's droning.

"It's half nine." Neville looked pointedly at the large clock on the mantle.

"I'll be rescheduling the board meeting." Draco pushed back from his desk and stood up. "Tell Astoria to fix it for the same time Monday, will you?"

"Of course." Neville nodded. He tilted his head and smiled that crooked full on smile that always disturbed Draco. He knew. "Good luck."

Draco swirled away from his office and landed on the damp ground in the center of the willow grove. She wanted wood goo from a willow. He was wizard enough to get it for her and for his child.

He took a deep breath and looked to the willows.

Which one was the best?

They all looked much the same.

How much wood goo did she need?

He was woefully underprepared for this.

His whole world was changing and how was he supposed to handle it?

A memory from his early childhood rose up in his mind. He was with his father in the alder grove on the far side of the property. He remembered watching his father draw out the sap, gather the leaves, and scrape the bark.

His mother had so many miscarriages.

Fear gripped him hard and he sat down in the middle of the circle of trees. He loved this baby already, and he couldn't even be sure it existed. The damp soaked through to his skin. He felt the sun shifting and felt the sudden push of time. His child needed him to be strong. There was no time to wallow.

He summoned the sap into a bowl transfigured from a rock. It would do well enough. He hadn't come prepared.

The leaves and the bark were far easier to gather and prepare. He dropped the bark dust and the slivers of cut up leaves into the sap and stared down at the rather disgusting looking glop. He knew the best way to mix natural elements together was with a glass rod, but a transfigured rod could contaminate the mixture. The oldest way to mix ingredients was the simplest.

He stuck his finger into the thick pasty mess and swirled in in large even circles. He felt his magic sliding out of him and into the liquid. He watched as, with each turn the leaves dissolved and the bark sparkled. Son a smooth liquid with a light violet shimmer graced the bottom of his crude bowl. He looked at it and knew it was right.

He walked to the house. He didn't want to risk harming the concoction. The world seemed brighter and his heart felt lighter.

The French doors stood open in welcome. He moved up the terraced steps and then the halting speech and sporadic sobs reached his ears. He snuck up to the doors and peered in.

"What am I supposed to do, Severus?" Hermione was curled up next to the portrait they kept of his godfather. "He will never believe I love him. He will never see me as anything more than the mudblood the Ministry foisted on to him."

"Hermione, you must control yourself." Severus' strident tones had a pleading note. "Let me get Narcissa for you."

"She hates me." Hermione hiccuped. "I'm not good enough for her precious baby."

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you." The painting was trying to soothe her. "You are rather difficult to hate."

"Then why didn't he learn to love me?" Hermione slumped to the floor. "Pansy loves Neville. Daphne loves Harry. Blaise adores Ginny. Theo and Luna are practically nauseating together. They all get a happily ever after, but I don't."

"It isn't like you to give up, Hermione." Severus sighed. "You have a lifetime with Draco. He may yet surprise you."

"Will he love the baby? It's only a half blood. What if he won't love her?" His wife was sobbing on the floor. His angry, distant wife was sobbing on the floor.

"He will love your child." Severus was crouched in the bottom of the frame trying to soothe her. "I believe he will love you. I've told you so many times. When have I ever been wrong?"

Her sobs continued unabated. Draco shifted uncomfortably. He'd never considered that they could be happy together.

When the Ministry decided that independent armies needed to be reigned in for the stability of society and instituted their Restoration Law, Hermione had been the leader of the opposition. She'd fought the Ministry tooth and nail. She'd claimed they were abusing her by making her reside in the home in which she'd been tortured. She'd kept fighting after their marriage had been consummated, after months of pain caused by the damn Ministry spells.

She'd cried. He'd hurried. Her unexpected virginity had made the whole thing worse. The guilt of it all still ate at him. They'd had no options. There was no way out. Their vows were iron clad, but nothing had stopped her from wading back into the fray. She'd stood before the Wizengamot and called them rapists. The papers had run it on the first page for days. He'd hated every second of scrutiny that she'd called down upon their heads.

Nothing stopped her. The crusade was more important than anything. She'd battled until the law had been repealed.

They were still trapped, but the younger students just coming of age were free. He'd watched her smile as Dennis Creevey hugged her and then ran over to his girlfriend. She'd smiled the whole time they were in public. Her battle was done. Pyrrhic victory in hand, she'd returned to the manor and disappeared into her research. He'd escaped to work.

The silence was broken only on the nights when they came together for mandatory copulation.

Their relationship was, at best, a business partnership. They did what was required to keep the pain at bay. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't horrible. It was tolerable.

"She's asleep." Severus' painted self called out to him. "Get her off the floor."

Draco stepped cautiously into the room. He set the bowl down on a table before levitating his wife onto the settee. She looked so small and fragile. It was hard to see the termagant in her emotionally ravaged façade.

"You've truly buggered up your life, my boy." Severus stared at him with those sad fathomless eyes. "She's so broken. She barely holds herself together."

"And, now, she can't." Draco sighed. "The pregnancy."

"You aren't a complete dunderhead." The portrait smirked.

"So, what am I supposed to do now?" Draco sat in a chair and examined her. "She loves me. I had no idea."

"She didn't want you to know. She thought it would bother you." Severus rolled his eyes. "The girl is a martyr by nature. The war only honed the instinct."

"What does that have to with anything?" Draco shoved a hand through his hair.

"You didn't try to stop her. When your mother begged you to make her stop fighting and making a public spectacle of your marriage, you denied the request." Severus shrugged. "It was the first time anyone truly supported her. Her idiot friends were always mocking her. You didn't."

"She loves me." Draco licked his lips. "It's real?"

"She does." Severus frowned. "She doesn't believe you could ever return her feelings though."

"Why not?"

"They offered you a choice. Azkaban or marriage to her. You took time to think about it." Severus shook his head. "More fool you."

"I thought about it because I didn't want to force her to live here. I didn't want to force her at all." Draco glared at the image of the man that had given his last measure of devotion for a woman. "How was I supposed to tell her I'd been in love with her since she broke my nose? She won't believe me now. She'll think I'm doing it for the baby."

"There are worse things." Severus grinned at him. "Let love grow."

Hermione began to stir. She twisted and turned. Whether she was fighting to awaken or fighting to sleep, he simply couldn't tell. Draco cupped her hand in his and stroked her skin with his fingertips. When her warm brown eyes fluttered open, he smiled awkwardly at her.

"I've got your wood goo." He tilted his head toward the bowl.

"You know." She sunk her teeth into her lower lip. "You figured it out."

"So did Longbottom." Draco sighed. "No doubt you're horde of friends will arrive soon. I think we should talk. Don't you?"

Hermione nodded, but she wouldn't look directly at him.

"I want us to start being a normal couple. I want to move into the same wing if not the same room." Draco took a deep breath. He was in this for the long term. "I want our child to have a family."

"So, we just move in together and pretend?" Hermione looked up at him through her lashes. "That seems awkward."

"It's not all that dissimilar to an arranged marriage." Draco shrugged. "I respect you. I admire your courage. I will treat you with kindness. In time, we may learn to love one another."

Hermione blinked rapidly. He felt a pang at manipulating her, but it was for her own good. They were going to be happy.

"Are you feeling better? Should we brew your antenatal potion?" Draco looked toward the bowl. "I have no idea how long that will keep."


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione glanced towards her husband. He was safely tucked under the shade of a beach umbrella. There was no chance of the sun toasting him to a lovely brown, so he came prepared. Actually he'd come over prepared. Five giant beach bags full of anything she could even imagine wanting were sheltered with him.

"Has he told you he loves you yet?" Luna swirled her hand and drew the water up into the air before scattering it in the winds to create rainbows. "Or is everything still for the good of the children?"

"He's all about building a stable relationship for the offspring still." Hermione smirked. "It's adorable how convoluted his thinking gets. He's tied himself in more knots..."

"Knots can be good, though you should avoid silk scarves." Luna waggled her brows. "Theo knows a great deal about it, oddly enough."

"Good for you, I suppose." Hermione kicked her feet about in the water. "I was talking about metaphorical knots."

"Theo is good with those, too." Luna glanced toward her husband where he stood in full sun cooking their lunch over his bonfire. "They all are. Pansy frequently scares the fanged geraniums. Neville has to spend days trying to coax them back to their normal aggressive selves. Daphne makes the most unladylike sounds when she's stressed."

"But Harry thinks the noises are cute." Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's so over the moon."

"So are you." Luna drew a heart in the wet sand between them. "You've had less to work with because your husband is better at avoidance than any human alive."

"We all have our coping mechanisms." Hermione watched the water wash away the heart and then drew her own. "It isn't like I bared my soul to him."

"You had good reason." Luna grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. "I think your husband was quite a prat when he was younger."

"You only think?" Hermione giggled as Luna rolled her eyes. "I think I should tell him I know he loves me. He's trying so hard."

"He needs to make an effort. Slytherins don't trust what comes too easily. A little research goes a long way. A little effort goes even farther." Luna sighed. "If you want him to know, I could tell him what book to read, or Neville could talk to him about the colors of properly made wood goo."

"That would be a bit obvious." Hermione shook her head. "He's a bit paranoid about things. He's trying to be the perfect coparent and partner."

"Yes, he's trying to win you by treating you like a beloved broodmare." Luna rolled her eyes. "It's adorable, and it's ridiculous. He needs to up his game. The more sexually adventurous trimesters are almost upon us. I know Theo's looking forward to it."

"Draco hasn't thought about my hormones. He's still having the elves paint test colors in the nursery." Hermione huffed. "If the goo hadn't been lavender in color, I'd swear he was only interested in his heir."

"So, seduce him." Luna splashed the water with her hands. "You are sleeping in the same suite of rooms. Is it really that hard to wander through a connecting door?"

"Isn't honesty better than all this subterfuge?" Hermione frowned. "What if He thinks I'm making a fool of him?"

"So, seduce him and then whisper it in his ear or scream it as you come." Luna grinned as Hermione squirmed. "He will believe or he won't, but you will have told him the truth."

Luna let go of Hermione's hand and flung up the water into the air and drew a rainbow heart above them. It shimmered in the air as the magic held it against the breeze for a moment. Hermione glanced over her shoulder and watched her husband dig around in one of the beach bags. She admired the play of muscles in his legs.

"I'm glad our children will be in the same year at Hogwarts." Luna patted her slightly protruding belly and dragged Hermione's attention back from Draco. "They'll have lifelong friends."

Hermione slung her arm over Luna's shoulder. It was easy to just be with Luna. There was never any pressure to be anything other than herself.

They settled at the edge of the water. It was peaceful and comforting. The water washed up their legs and retreated, a rhythmic caress.

Luna leaned against her for a moment. It was easy between them. The two misfits of the Light had found their kindred in each other. Neither made friends easily, but once their friendship was given it was fierce and complete. Eventually, they had realized that their bond was stronger than merel friendship.

"So, Sis, are you going to head over to his little umbrella world and let him rest?" Luna glanced over at Draco and waved. "He seems a tad agitated."

"He insisted on putting the sunblock potion on me three times this morning." Hermione sighed. "He would prefer it if I swam only in the controlled environment of the pool."

"Well, the south of France was a nice compromise. Private beach, no one can get through the wards. He has achieved his goals for the most part. It must truly irritate him that he can't hold back the tide." Luna smirked at her play on words. "You'd best watch for his signals. I think he's looking to reapply your potion."

"You're so funny." Hermione bumped her blonde friend's shoulder with her own.

"Why isn't Theo making you crazy with this first time father nonsense?"

"Theo isn't quite as together as he seems. He casts the spell to check that I'm pregnant three or four times a day. He also does all the cooking now. The elves weren't meeting his exacting standards." Luna shook her head. "They're having fits, but the house is clean, the gardens are manicured, and Theo's pants are starched and three sizes too small now."

"Let's hope he doesn't give Draco any ideas." Hermione giggled. "The Malfoy elves will not allow it. They're the bossiest group of beings you've ever met."

"Draco actually told him to relax." Luna plucked a shell from the sand and held it up to examine the flicker of light on its silvered surface. "He didn't mean it though. They're both caught up in the normal fears. Statistically pureblood pregnancies end in miscarriage more often than bouncing babies."

"So, let them indulge in their worries." Hermione nodded.

"I'd try distracting him with sex." Luna grinned. "The male brain is geared towards that anyway."

"Is Theo cooking oysters?" Hermione raised an eyebrow as she pushed her body around and got to her feet.

"I'm fairly certain shellfish are on his list of forbidden foods." Luna shrugged. "He read about keeping kosher while researching special diets. I don't think he read far enough to understand the religious implications. I do rather miss bacon."

Hermione shook her head and pulled Luna up to her feet. They stood and looked out to the horizon for a moment. The wide sprawl of blue was beautiful, but for a small group of boats that seemed to be waiting for something. She examined the boats for a moment before turning her head back to the open stretch of water before her. It looked endless and welcoming as the waves moved gently forward to splash against her ankles.

"Your husband is about ready to drag you back into the shade." Luna giggled. "Go. Reassure him that you need vitamin D. There's no potion for it."

Hermione laughed and walked across the beach to her husband's mini resort for pregnant witches. He looked relieved and stepped out into the sun to meet her. His blonde hair shone like goblin worked mithril in the sun. She grinned and held a hand out to him.

"You need to rest." His fingers were warm in her grasp. There was the comfort of constancy in his touch. "I don't want you exhausting yourself."

"It wouldn't be good for the baby." Hermione stepped close to him and kissed his cheek. "Why don't I let you pamper me a bit?"

She smiled as he settled her into a lounge chair and charmed the thing to massage her gently. There were definite advantages to having an insanely spoiled mate. Extravagance was normal for him. A massage chair on the beach was expected.

"Thank you, Draco." Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand. "I think you should release the wards that are blocking the shipping lanes now though. I noticed a few boats that seemed stalled just now."

She admired the bright pink that tinged his cheeks before he rolled his eyes. He was adorable in his embarrassment. She squeezed his fingers and felt his quick return of the gesture.

"It was a sweet thing to do, but let's not run afoul of the statute of secrecy." She grinned as he grumbled and flicked his wand. "I doubt the welfare of the Nott and Malfoy heirs would be considered sufficient reason for such behavior."

"This is France." Draco shrugged, pulled his hand free, and started poking through another bag. "I'm fairly certain I can handle it."

She smiled at his casual arrogance. It was actually a bit adorable. Wrong, but adorable.

"I would just throw Theo at them and whisk you back to England." He smirked and handed her a book from her pleasure reads collection. "He owes me one."

"He owes you that large a favor?" She rested the book across her chest.

"I'm not telling you why, so don't bat those eyelashes at me." He sat down next to her on a campaign chair he conjured.

"Do they work?" She examined the carved wood and worn leather. "You brought an antique chair to the beach?"

"It's a good chair." Draco patted the carved arm and curled his fingers around the rounded ends. "It suits me."

Hermione managed not to laugh at his satisfied expression. She let the references to Napolean and Wellington slide. He wouldn't understand them anyway.

"Why don't you let me read that ridiculous book to you for a while?" He held out his hand and wiggles his fingers impatiently. He examined the cover for a moment. "Arithmancy?"

"I like it." She grinned at him.

"You would." He shook his head.

"Mock me all you want." Hermione wagged a finger at him. "I know you love me anyway."

She closed her eyes and leaned back into her chair to give him a moment to wipe the shock off his face. He took a deep breath and started to read. She smiled as the sound of the waves and his voice ebbed and flowed around her.


End file.
